Español
Português
Italiano
Русский
Deutsch
Français
*Boom* *Crack*
The sound of thunder resounded out in the cold night air. The rain pouring down blotted out the sky and made any person unwittingly caught in said weather run from cover to cover. The biting cold made people grab their coats and pull them tighter to shut out the bone cold chill of the wind. Cars zoomed by on the roads splashing any person on the side walk, but it was relatively quite in the dark of night, with only the patter of rain being prominent.
*Splash* *Patter* *Splash*
A long figure stood out in this weather not caring for the rain that was drenching his skin. His clothes that were in tatters were soaked through and would surely give anybody a cold, but the person standing in the rain didn't react to this, or move to find shelter.
The figure just continued to stare in front of him, his mattered brown hair was flopping down and covered his face, what could be seen were only small parts of his hazel eyes. In his hands he gripped something, a small red cloth from a distance.
He stood in a grave yard starring down at one of the head stones, he stood there for more than an hour as the weather continued to rage on, but no matter the wind, rain or sound around him, he didn't move. Finally after an untold amount of time in the middle of the black night his voice could just be heard speaking out.
"I failed you." His voice was strained and broken, no doubt from repeated crying from hours past. "You, Eddie, Norman, Harry, Gwen…." He shuddered before he could say the next person, but he somehow forced himself. "…uncle B-ben.." The figure, now clenching his hands, slowly sank to his knees, and in barely a whisper finished. "…you were all I had left."
*Sob* *Sob*
Finally the figure couldn't help it, on his knees in the pouring rain, in front of the grave of one of the most important people in his life, he cried once again. His cries echoed softly in the graveyard for no one to hear.
Finally after another long period of time the figure finally stood back up, leaning down slightly after doing so he brushed his hand slowly over the head rest, reading the words he had used to immortalize her. 'Here lies May Reilly Parker, Beloved Wife, Aunt and Mother. Kind to all, never to be forgotten. (1962-2019)' The figure read the words a few times before also glancing at the grave right next to this one. The bold words 'Benjamin Franklin Parker' sent another deep stab into the heart of the lone figure.
Looking between the two gravestones for a few more minutes the figure finally turned his back and reached for his face. Uncurling his fingers that had a death grip on the red cloth in his hands, it was revealed that it wasn't a cloth but instead a mask. If anyone were around in the great city of New York and saw the mask gripped in his hand they would easily be able to tell that it was the same worn by their cities own Spider-Man!
Peter Parker looked down at the mask in his hand and slowly lifted it to his face putting it on, a small spark and crackle from the microphone inside. "I have nothing left but the city now…" his voice drifted over the wind as he talked with his back turned, the hurt and sorrow clear as day. "…More heroes are popping up nowadays, Iron-man, Thor, Black Widow, The Fantastic Four…." He took another pause and seemed to think to himself for a while. "…I really am starting to get tired… But I'll keep helping people as long as I'm needed."
Peter finally sent one last glance at the two graves. "I'll help them, unlike how I failed you…" It looked like he wanted to say more, but in the end he didn't. Raising his hand and pressing on a button. *Thwip* A line of web extended to one of the tall buildings around the graveyard, and soon Peter's figure vanished in the larger city around.
|
Donate
Oh o, this user has not set a donation button.
|
|
Report
|
 |
Novel Cool
Read thousands of novels online
|